


Only One Bed

by Ihni



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Harringrove, M/M, Only One Bed, Poetry, Rhymes, Tropes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-11
Updated: 2019-02-11
Packaged: 2019-10-26 10:45:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17744444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ihni/pseuds/Ihni
Summary: For the Harringrove Week Of Love, February 11th, prompt: "Only one bed".





	Only One Bed

Two boys; always fighting, never quite getting along  
Neither will admit to when he’s insecure, or wrong  
So when they walk into the room they’ll share, they both stop dead  
Their bickering trails off as they both look towards the bed

They feel as if the air inside the room has been sucked out  
This must be a mistake – it must! – of this, they have no doubt  
Once upon a time, they fought until the other bled  
And now, they’re in a room together, and there’s just one bed

They turn as one – to get another bed, another room  
There is none – the air, when they return, is full of gloom  
They both suspect (but do not say) that they have been misled  
That somewhere, someone’s laughing at them – and this single bed

Both of them are stubborn, though, and both of them are tough  
None of them will be the first to yield, and sure enough:  
When a minute’s passed and neither one of them have fled  
Cautiously, they both approach the – solitary – bed

They look at each other, and then they look away  
Both of them are tired – it has been a trying day  
One says; “I’ll go shower”, the other; “Go ahead”  
They both unpack their bags, while sidestepping the bed

When both of them have showered, the hour is quite late  
None of them are looking for a fight or a debate  
One is lying down already; stomach full of lead  
As the other also (grudgingly) climbs into bed

The silence is oppressive; the space between them vast  
The tension in the room is high; their hearts are beating fast  
There’s something in the air – a mix of nervousness and dread  
As both of them are lying _very still_ … in the same bed

 _Drip drip drip_ – the faucet in the bathroom must be leaking  
In the room next door, someone is walking; floorboards creaking  
There’s muffled voices coming from the ceiling overhead  
But not a single noise come from the boys who share this bed

The room is dark, the mattress soft, but still they cannot sleep  
Nothing seems to help (and one has even counted sheep!)  
Now one of them is sighing, the other holds his head  
“I _cannot_ fucking sleep with you beside me in this bed!”

“Well if it doesn’t work for you” – a sneer – “then there’s the door!  
And if you want to stay in here, feel free to take the floor!”  
They’re angry and frustrated, and both of them see red  
And before they know it, they are sitting up in bed

They’re pushing at each other, to kick the other out  
One of them draws breath – to scream? To yell? Perhaps to shout?  
The other pulls his fist back – for a hit? – but then instead  
of punching, he just slams the other back down on the bed

They’re struggling and they’re squirming, ‘til one comes out on top  
“I win”, he breathes into the other’s face, “Now will you stop?”  
The other seethes with anger, and there’s many things unsaid  
As he – jaw clenched, eyes hard – forces a nod; rolls out of bed

“The hell?!” the first one says and reaches out to grab his hand  
“Where do you think you’re going?” Half a question; half demand  
The other frowns down at him, “To the floor, I thought you said –“  
The first one sighs, “You’re stupid, _goddamn_ , just come back to bed”

This time when they lay down, there’s no space between the two  
A touch; “What do you think you’re doing–?” Sigh. “I wish I knew”  
An arm across a waist; “If you tell anyone, you’re dead”  
A head upon a chest; “Yeah man, this doesn’t leave this bed”

Morning finds them tangled in a comfortable heap  
None of them remember when or how they fell asleep  
They’re warm and safe and cozy, and no blood has been shed  
Perhaps it’s not so bad, at times, to have to share a bed …

**Author's Note:**

> Who says what? You decide.


End file.
